


That Smile

by 401



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes Returns, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-05-31 21:25:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6487918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/401/pseuds/401
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky is being held at SHIELD after the helicarrier incident. Steve never forgot his best guy. Neither did Bucky, not completely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

His mark was sitting across the room from him.

_Friend, not mark._

The intrusive thought carved through the whir of images in Bucky’s head like a thick, red scar. The confusion spurred an anger that was irresistible. He uprooted the small interrogation table in front of him from its bolted foundations and threw it directly at the one everyone called ‘Cap’. That was silly, Bucky thought, because _even he_ knew that his name was Steve. it made no sense that no one else did.

He watched in frustration as the tall blond stepped out of the steel table’s path calmly and took his seat to the edge of the room, sitting with his elbows on his knees looking at Bucky with a positively enraging expression of concern on his face. He was unthreatening and neutral, after all that had happened, this ‘super-soldier’ was sat not ten meters from him with all of his danger zones and weak points exposed. Reachable wrists, targetable neck. Fully vulnerable.

_Kissable. You forgot kissable._

Bucky shook the voice away again, standing up and pacing the small concrete room. He balled his hair in his hands and tugged, focusing on the all too dull pain. Stupid. It was stupid. Love was stupid, and it needed to go.

_You don’t even want to finish this mission do you, Asset?_

“No,” Bucky growled, replying to his mind out loud, “NO, I DON’T!”

Bucky threw himself, aiming his forehead at the smooth concrete wall. If he couldn’t block himself out, he could always knock himself out. Same effect.

He made the movement, but was surprised when he was not met with cold, sharp pain, but with solid, yet soft warmth. A heartbeat too, and a clean ‘body-heat’ sort of smell. He pulled himself back sharply.

“Come on now, don’t hurt yourself,” Steve put his hands solidly on Bucky’s shoulders, receiving a painful but expected uppercut to the stomach.

“Hey, look, I know you’re confused and your angry, I _know,”_ Steve guided Bucky back to his seat, turning it the right way up before sitting him down.

“You haven’t been to sleep since…since the helicarrier. Do you want me to get you a fold out?”

Bucky stared at Steve. Steve didn’t flinch. Bucky was starting to fear the Captain based purely on how little the Captain seemed to fear him.

_See, he does know you._

“No?” Steve sat down opposite, pulling up his own chair.

He shifted his weight and reached over to a dark blue duffle bag against the wall.

“Here,” Steve offered digging through the bag, “At least eat something for me.”

 _For him?_ Bucky gritted his teeth and accepted the protein bar. ‘EnerMax’, it read across the wrapper in big, garish letters that made the package seem bigger than it really was.

Toffee and walnut flavoured. Maybe it was like the nutrition solutions back at base, just solid. He put it into his pocket, feeling a little bad when he saw a small look of disappointment on Steve’s face.

“How about you tell me what your favourite food is, and I go out and get it for you? Well, I know what it _used_ to be, but let’s have a go anyway, hey?” Steve smiled, patting Bucky’s knee in a way that didn’t even make him want to flinch.

So he thought about it. The pink coloured protein drinks Hydra had at the Munich base were okay, the clear gel ones in Warsaw were even better, despite appearances. He had bought a cheeseburger after a mission once, too.

_And they punished you for it so hard you threw it up, dumbass._

Bucky winced at the memory and shook his head.

“I don’t remember,” He muttered, looking down at Steve’s shoes.

 

The laces on the left side were double knotted, the right ones were not. Has sitting with on foot flat on the ground and the other curved at the ankle.

_Kinda’ cute, really._

Bucky breathed a sigh, unenthusiastically agreeing with the voice.

“It used to be a bottle of Coke and a Rueben. You want me to pick that up?” Steve encouraged, that still-welcome hand on his knee.

Bucky’s stomach knotted, half out of hunger and half out of dread. The truth was, if The Captain left, he did not know who he was going to be with in this cell. And the Captain was the only one that the voice in his head seemed to repeatedly protect. It was getting easier and easier to accept the voice as his own train of thought, rather than some vicious saboteur.

“I don’t… I’d prefer if you stayed,” Bucky admitted quietly, glancing at the hand on his knee.

_Don’t worry, it’s still there._

Steve nodded and smiled. It was a very genuine smile; the kind that makes you feel warm when someone opens a gift that you’ve put thought into. It certainly made Bucky feel warm. He made a note to try and get the Captain to do it again. It had been a while since he had felt like this.

“No problem, I’ll ask Jarvis to order in,” Steve shrugged.

“Jarvis? Can you order a standard Ruben meal and a Coke from Harvey’s on Oak Street please?” Steve asked, looking slightly up as he said it.

Bucky followed his sight, but noticed no one.

“Of course, Captain Rogers. Shall I be ordering anything for you?” the unmanned voice boomed back.

Bucky bolted, the noise from the sky sending a pulse of pure fear through him. Steve, again, got in front of him.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright,” Steve chuckled, “It’s a computer, don’t worry. I thought I was going on a bend when I heard it the first time, don’t worry.”  


Bucky calmed himself, once again taking his seat.

“Captain Rogers, is everything alright?” The voice asked, “I can call for emergency backup if you see fit.”  


“He wants a BLT and an orange juice,” Bucky blurted out, “I think. That’s what he used to have…”

Steve stared at Bucky with an expression of shock that was almost the smile that Bucky had promised to see again.

“Captain Rogers, shall I confirm Sergeant Barnes’ request?”  


“Yes, Jarvis, that’s right. Thank you,” Steve nodded at the computer and turned back to Bucky.

 

“You remembered that?” Steve grinned, the hand on Bucky’s knee tightening a little.

Bucky nodded, ashamed at something he could not pinpoint.

“You used to eat my crusts. I don’t like those. You used to tell me I was no better than I little kid when it came to food,” Bucky frowned, letting the memory play out in his head.

Steve nodded and breathed a laugh, looking down at his hands. Bucky could see him playing out the memory too. He wondered if it was the same in his head.

“You used to get mayonnaise all over your nose because you’d draw with one hand and eat with the other,” Bucky continued, “And if I ever pointed it out…”  


Bucky paused. Not because the rest of the memory was unclear, but because he didn’t know if it was relevant anymore. Seventy years had passed, people had changed. Hell, the whole world had changed. Things couldn’t be more different.

“Go on,” Steve whispered.

Bucky took a breath.

“You’d pin me down and kiss me so it got all over my face too, then you shout ‘twins!’ and I’d chase you around the apartment. Never too much though, you’d get all wheezy,” Bucky solidly grinned at the memory, and then realised that it was the first time he’s solidly grinned at anything in years.

“I miss that,” Steve sighed, moving his hands from Bucky’s knee to his hands.

 

“Me too,” Bucky confessed quietly, so that his own subconscious couldn’t hear.

Maybe it could, maybe he’d hate himself for it later. It did not matter, because he got to see that smile again.

 

 

  


 


	2. All the Words You Need

"You ate it," Steve smiled, entering the holding cell Bucky was being contained in.

Bucky nodded at the crumpled Reuben wrapper on the desk in front of him. It was an odd and unfamiliar feeling, being nourished beyond the   
theshold of what was absolutely necessary to survive. He was almost uncomfortably full for the first time in years.  
He was not sure how he felt about it yet.

"Well done," Steve praised, sitting down opposite him and putting his fore arms on the desk in front of him, his fingers interlocked, his thumbs tapping a rhythm.

Bucky looked at the callouses across STeve's palms and the image of the shield flashed through his head, with its thick leather strap. They were hands that had worked.  
That was one way they were quite similar, in hands-on fighting. Steve did it out of habit and preferance. Bucky did it because he had been taught that   
you could tell if someone was dead better if you could feel them. The thought curdled in Bucky's stomach in a way that it never had before.

"Are you here to question me again?" Bucky asked, uncomfortable with how guilt-mongering it had sounded out loud.

Steve shook his head and chuckled, a low soft sound in the back of his throat that make Bucky feel oddly warm.

"No, just want to keep you company," Steve shrugged, nonchalantly.

There was nothing nonchalant about it. Steve was not about to admit that he had not slept since he had left Bucky last, or that whether or not the Sergeant had eaten  
or slept himself was the dominant thought scheme of his mind. He did not want to admit the deep, gnawing need to 'keep Bucky company'. It was not the time.

Bucky looked at the Captain and, despite the blond's best attempts, discovered this instantly. He was tense in his movements, holding back phenomenally it seemed.   
Every movement was manufactured not to enter his personal space too much, not to disrupt the fragile calm that had come over him. Bucky had never been a fan of people  
treating him like a hazard, and now more than ever, it was frustrating.

Because he actually wanted Steve to break the balance, disrupt the calm. 'Want' seemed like an understatement. It was closer to a need, or an intense craving, and   
now that he had fully acknowledged its presence, it was growing stronger. He was not sure of its motivations. Sexual? Maybe. He definitely had nothing against that,  
but there was something marbled in with any lust he was feeling. Just closeness. What he wanted was the closeness.

"Hold it," Bucky found himself stuttering out, making the Captain jump a little in the silence, "My hand, can you? Hold my hand..."

Bucky felt his cheeks react befor his heartbeat, betraying him and flaming up red at his own forwardness. He kept his eyes low until he heard some cue.

Steve slid his hands forward slowly, pushing them under Bucky's and cupping them around them and squeezing lightly. They were cold, like he had been outside, and in  
Bucky current state of blushing, it felt good. Too good.

Bucky drew his hands back and balled them into fists against his chest. The Captain nodded understandingly, leaving his hands where they were, open and receptive.  
The craving returned, and his hands were back in Steve's.

"I don't mind, Buck," Steve reassured quietly, "As many goes as you need."

Bucky took a slow breath.

"Can you come around here, onto my side?" He asked almost inaudibly.

Steve nodded, keeping a hold of one of Bucky's hands and dragging his chair with his free one. He sat opposite him, their knees touching slightly. Bucky let go of his   
hands again, the anxiety clearly growing a little. Steve readied him self for rejection but was met instead with Bucky, still looking down at the concrete floor,  
outstretching his arms.

Hug me.

It was universal and plain. Steve stood up, guiding Bucky with him by the forearms. It was, Steve thought, similar to teaching someone to walk after some sort of   
accident. It would be impossible in the early days, then they would stand for a moment when held, then unaided, then steps would be made. Eventually, they would  
run and wonder how it was so difficult.

Bucky leaned forward stiffly. Steve ignored the trembling, making the fabric of Bucky's t-shirt quiver like sheets on a washing line. As soon as the soldier's forehead  
hit Steve's shoulder, the shaking calmed. So did his breathing. Steve put his arms around him properly and smiled as he felt Bucky get heavier, the tension leaving  
him muscle by muscle. Bucky's grip tightened, pressing them together and closing any space between them in a flush, warm movement and his fingers balled into fists  
against Steve's back. 

Something gave in Bucky. Steve felt it, a jolt or a shiver. Steve closed his eyes and waited to be pushed away, but was again surprised. Tears.

"Hey," Steve soothed, keeping his voice low, "Hey, it's alright.

He ran a hand through Bucky's hair, throwing caution to the wind and valuing comfort over anything.

"I'm sorry," Bucky coughed, his voice full of tears and muffled by Steve's chest.

Steve shook his head, not caring that Bucky could not see. He had no words. Maybe he did, but they were not the right ones by any stretch. He continued the  
rhythmic carding of his hair and hoped for the best, swaying his weight between his feet and rocking them both. It seemed to lull them into a comfortable haze. 

"I've missed you," Bucky croaked out after what seemed like an eternity.

Steve looked down at him, all hot, damp cheeks and spidery eyelashes that framed red-raw eyes. Maybe he was mad or just stupid. Or painfully, relentlessly in love.

Steve leant forward and pressed his lips to Bucky's gently. His lips tasted like salt. Steve noticed after a few moments that Bucky was kissing him back.

"I missed you too, Buck," Steve whispered, before returning to the kiss.

Because there, he'd find all the words he'd ever need.


End file.
